


You're Outta My League

by KuriKuri



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Nishinoya Yuu, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Omega Azumane Asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/pseuds/KuriKuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noya’s been chasing after Shimizu for the past few years, and she and Asahi couldn’t be more different. Petite, where Asahi’s gigantic. Curvy, where Asahi’s stocky. Soft, where Asahi’s firm. To put it simply, if Shimizu is Noya’s type, Asahi doesn’t have a chance in hell.</p><p>Still, he can dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Outta My League

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes/Warnings:** I'm messing around with ABO stuff again, and in this fic I'm treating dynamic as more significant than gender. So if a character is referred to as "gay" it's referring to, say, an omega who's attracted to omegas. 
> 
> Also, Noya's trans, in the sense that he was assigned omega at birth. So there's mentions of HRT, along with some vague references to transphobia and dysphoria. (Don't worry, though - this fic isn't meant to be super angsty.) 
> 
> Lastly, both Noya and Asahi are in high school and therefore around 17-18, and there is a more explicit scene in which Asahi masturbates, so if you're uncomfortable with that, here's your warning.

There’s an ice cream café not too far from Asahi’s house, the sort with decadent parfaits topped with fruit and chocolate. He tries not to go too often, because he could very easily blow all his money on raspberry ice cream.

Unfortunately, it’s nearing _that_ time of year again, so Asahi allows himself to indulge. Once every three months is hardly going to eat up all his money, and heat burns a lot of calories, too, so in a way it’s just a proper precaution.

Mainly he just wants to eat ice cream, though.

He’s sitting at a corner table, biting his lower lip as he stares at the menu and tries to decide between raspberry and mango, when he hears a familiar voice yell, “Hey, Asahi-san!”

Asahi startles, looking up just in time to see Noya slide into the seat across from him. He looks a little out of place in the small café, too wild for the small glass dishes and strawberry print wallpaper. Then again, it’s not like Asahi looks like a usual customer either, he supposes.

“Noya,” Asahi finally manages. “What are you doing here?”

“My moms are shopping and they always take forever,” Noya says, stealing the menu from Asahi. “I saw you through the window and thought I’d bother you instead. What do you normally get?”

“Um, the raspberry and mango parfaits are good,” Asahi answers, and Noya makes a thoughtful noise.

“Not strawberry?” he asks. “I thought that would be more your thing.”

“I’m allergic,” Asahi sighs, looking a little forlornly at the glossy images of parfaits decorated with perfectly arranged strawberries.

“Wait, really?” Noya asks, looking up from the menu, lips turned down in a slight frown. “How did I not know that?”

“I guess it’s just never come up,” Asahi answers, shrugging. Noya opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the waiter makes his way over to their table.

“So, raspberry or mango?” the waiter asks, shooting Asahi a smile, and Asahi has to fight a blush. He hadn’t realized he came here often enough for people to actually start remembering his order.

“Raspberry would be good, thanks,” Asahi answers, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, a nervous gesture.

“I’ll have chocolate,” Noya announces, handing the waiter the menu.

He’s grinning, but there’s something slightly off about his tone. Asahi can’t quite put his finger on what it is, though, and their waiter seems to notice it too, because his smile looks a little more forced when aimed at Noya.

“So, you know that guy?” Noya asks, once the waiter is out of earshot.

“Not really,” Asahi answers, a little confused by the direction the conversation has taken. “I guess I just come here too often.”

“He seems like he’s into you,” Noya replies, and Asahi blinks, half convinced he somehow heard the wrong words. “I can get out of your hair if I’m interrupting some sort of seduction plan – ”

“Seduction plan?” Asahi sputters, his cheeks flushing hot. “I’m not – ”

“Sitting alone at a café and making eyes at the cute waiter isn’t a seduction plan?” Noya replies, shooting Asahi a smirk.

“I don’t know where you get these ideas,” Asahi sighs. “And anyway, I’m not alone anymore.”

“Which is why I offered to leave if I was interrupting something,” Noya says. “You sure you don’t wanna try flirting back?”

“He’s not flirting,” Asahi protests, trying to resist the urge to check over his shoulder to make sure said waiter isn’t within hearing range.

“You can be so dense sometimes,” Noya mutters, and Asahi frowns, feeling like he’s missing something.

Before he can protest, though, their waiter returns with their ice cream. As he sets the glass dish down in front of Asahi, Asahi’s eyes are immediately drawn to the rabbit-shaped cookie sticking out of the ice cream – a rabbit-shaped cookie which doesn’t normally come with this parfait. It doesn’t look like it’s the wrong order, though.

“Enjoy,” the waiter says, giving Asahi a smile that’s a little more than polite.

Asahi can’t quite help the way his mouth falls open a little in surprise, but thankfully the waiter doesn’t seem to expect an actual answer, instead moving on to take another table’s order.

“Still think he’s not interested?” Noya snorts, eyeing Asahi’s ice cream. “ _I_ didn’t get a cookie. He seems kind of rude, though. The two of us could totally have been on a date.”

That statement doesn’t help Asahi process the situation at all. Now that he thinks about it, the ice cream café is something of a date venue. Of course, it’s not like they’re doing anything really couple-y, like holding hands or sharing ice cream –

Noya reaches over and steals a spoonful of Asahi’s parfait, a contemplative look on his face as he swallows it.

“The ice cream here is pretty good,” Noya says, turning back to his own parfait and digging in. There’s a smear of chocolate on his upper lip, and Asahi finds himself staring.

“Eat your own ice cream,” Asahi says, finally tearing his eyes away from Noya.

“That thing’s bigger than your face,” Noya snorts, gesturing to the parfait. “There’s no way you can eat all of it.”

“I’m bigger than you. I have space for it,” Asahi retorts, knocking Noya’s spoon away as he tries to steal another bite.

“Hey, size has nothing to do with how much you can eat!” Noya protests, his expression dangerously close to a pout. “Hinata always puts away as much as Kageyama at training camp, and they both out eat Tsukishima.”

“That still doesn’t mean I’m going to let you have any of my ice cream,” Asahi replies, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile.

“You’re a horrible friend,” Noya huffs, but there’s no real bite to his tone. “See if I ever share a popsicle with you in the future.”

“Sharing popsicles sounds kind of gross,” Asahi says, wrinkling his nose.

“I’m sure some people think it’s romantic or something,” Noya replies through a mouthful of ice cream. Asahi bites back a sigh and wonders how he ever developed a crush on someone as blunt and unrefined as Nishinoya Yū.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not a couple, then,” Asahi says. “Because I would not share a popsicle with you, no matter how romantic you think it is.”

“Way to crush all my hopes and dreams,” Noya says, his tone deadpan. “Now I’ll die all alone without ever having shared a popsicle with the love of my life.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to share a popsicle with someday,” Asahi replies lightly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Noya going out with someone else. Not that he has any right to dictate Noya’s love life.

“You know, you could be sharing your ice cream with that waiter right now,” Noya retorts, glancing over to the other end of the room. Asahi follows his gaze to find the waiter in question carrying a tray of drinks to another table.

He’s not unattractive, really: an alpha, around Asahi’s height (maybe even a little taller), with a lean build and dark hair messy enough to be called “tousled” but not bad enough to be unkempt. Still, as Asahi watches the waiter, he can’t muster more than a vague interest.

“I think I’d rather eat with a friend than a virtual stranger,” Asahi finally says, tearing his eyes away from the waiter.

Noya pauses for a moment, and Asahi wonders if he’s somehow revealed too much, but eventually Noya just says, “You’re such a wimp. You could score a hot date right now, but instead you’re hanging out with me.”

“I _like_ hanging out with you,” Asahi blurts out before he can stop himself.

“You’re a _sappy_ wimp,” Noya teases, lips turning up in a small smile. “But thanks. And, uh, me too.”

“That’s… good,” Asahi says awkwardly, cheeks burning.

Noya leans over to steal more of his ice cream, and this time Asahi doesn’t stop him.

\---

When Asahi wakes up the next morning, there’s an itch under his skin and a cloudiness in his head. He’s kicked off his sheets in the middle of the night, overheated, and he only barely resists the urge to groan, bury his face in his pillow, and go back to sleep.

Somehow he manages to find the strength to push himself out of bed and stumbles over to the bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing cold water in his face. It helps a little, but it also seems to emphasize how flushed his face is – not burning, but definitely hotter than usual.

Asahi can’t quite suppress the small groan that escapes him. He hates having to go to school right before his heat. He gets the four required days off for it, but the day before and the day after are always a trial. But, well, he’s coherent enough to pay attention in class and his scent’s not strong enough to distract other students, so he can’t really ask for an extra day off just because his skin feels a little too tight and he spends all day fidgeting.

There’s not much he can do about the situation, so he shrugs it off and goes through his morning routine, getting dressed and grabbing breakfast before heading out the door for morning volleyball practice. Hopefully the exercise will make him feel a little more refreshed.

(Of course, morning practice also means sweaty Noya darting across the court, biceps flexing and hair tousled and –

Probably not something he should be thinking about, this close to heat.)

By the time Asahi gets to the gym, there are already a few people setting up. Or, well, Suga, Daichi, and Ennoshita are setting up while Kageyama and Hinata are arguing about something or other. Asahi’s finally managed to stop getting anxious whenever they go at each other. He thinks it might be their way of showing affection, sort of like how Suga and Noya hit him in the side when he gets too negative.

“Hey, Asahi-san!” a familiar voice calls out, and Asahi turns to find Noya bounding towards him, looking far too bright eyed for the early hour.

Asahi doesn’t think he’ll ever understand morning people – which he supposes is ironic, given his name.

“I wanna practice tossing, so – ” Noya starts, but then he cuts himself off, skidding to an abrupt stop in front of Asahi, grin shrinking and nose wrinkling up. Asahi feels his face heat, but in the end Noya only falters for a second. “Uh, yeah, I wanna know if I’m tossing high enough for you.”

“Okay,” Asahi replies, unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed that Noya didn’t comment on his scent. It’s always embarrassing coming to school when people _know_ you’re going to spend the next few days jerking off nonstop, but when it comes to _Noya_ , well. Asahi’s a little disappointed that Noya doesn’t seem even the slightest bit interested.

Not that Asahi wasn’t expecting it, of course. Noya’s all for people not conforming to stereotypes, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s been chasing after Shimizu for the past few years, and she and Asahi couldn’t be more different. Petite, where Asahi’s gigantic. Curvy, where Asahi’s stocky. Soft, where Asahi’s firm. To put it simply, if Shimizu is Noya’s type, Asahi doesn’t have a chance in hell. Maybe he _should_ have tried his luck with the waiter.

Still, he can dream.

“Heeeey, Earth to Asahi-san,” Noya says, breaking Asahi from his thoughts. “I don’t wanna hit you in the face because you weren’t paying attention, space cadet.”

“Ah, sorry,” Asahi replies, flustered.

“Are you sure you should be in school today?” Noya asks, lips turning down into a slight frown.

“I’m fine,” Asahi insists. “Most people don’t even notice, anyway. I’m kind of surprised you did.”

Noya looks like he wants to say something in response, but apparently decides against it. Asahi doesn’t press him. It’s probably better if they get off of this awkward subject, anyway, because the last thing Asahi needs is for the entire team to start teasing him.

Unfortunately, they only get a few tosses in before Asahi hears Hinata say loudly from across the gym, “There’s a weird scent that’s making my nose itch. But, like, in a good way? It’s kind of sweet.”

Asahi’s face flushes bright red and nearby Suga starts cracking up. Asahi would tell him to cut it out if he weren’t _completely mortified_.

“You shouldn’t yell about people’s scents, idiot,” Kageyama huffs, rolling his eyes at Hinata. “It’s bad manners.”

“Wait, whose scent is it?” Hinata asks, peering around the gym, and Asahi wishes profoundly that he could just melt into the floor and disappear right about now.

“I think Daichi and I are going to have to give Hinata the ‘you’re really gay but that’s okay’ talk,” Suga says when he finally manages to stop laughing, shooting Asahi a grin. “I thought he would have figured it out by now, considering how flustered he gets around Kiyoko-san, but I guess he’s pretty dense.”

“It took you and Daichi two years to figure out you were into each other,” Asahi points out, trying to distract himself from his embarrassment.

“No, we knew we were into each other,” Suga corrects, still grinning. “It’s just that neither of us knew if the other was attracted to alphas.”

Asahi resists the urge to point out that it was obvious to _everyone else_.

“Still, I’m surprised that Hinata noticed your scent,” Suga continues. “I wouldn’t have known if Daichi hadn’t made a note on the practice schedule about you being absent for the next few days.”

“It’s not _that_ subtle,” Noya protests, butting into the conversation.

“Maybe to some people,” Suga replies, giving Noya a look that Asahi can’t quite interpret.

“Can we just forget about this?” Asahi sighs. “We still have another fifteen minutes of practice before we have to get to class.”

“Yeah, c’mon,” Noya agrees quickly, wrapping a hand around Asahi’s wrist and dragging him away from Suga. Asahi frowns as he notices that the tips of Noya’s ears are a little flushed for some reason, but before he can ask about it, Noya’s herding him into position to practice setting.

Thankfully, his heat doesn’t get brought up again during practice, and throughout the entire school day no one else notices.

(He tries not to read too far into how _Noya_ did.)

\---

Before bed, Asahi decides to indulge in a long, warm bath. His joints ache and his skin still feels tight and itchy, and even though his heat hasn’t even fully begun yet, he’s ready for it to be over. Not for the first time, he wishes he wasn’t allergic to suppressants. (Suppressants and strawberries, of all things.)

He sighs and slides further under the water, trying to immerse as much of his body as he can – which honestly is less than he’d like, because he’s too tall for this tiny tub. If he were Shimizu or Hinata’s size, he’d fit perfectly, warm water covering him completely, instead of his legs dangling awkwardly over the side of the tub, goosebumps rising up on his skin as cold water droplets slide down them.

But before he goes too far down that rabbit hole of body image issues, he reminds himself that if he wasn’t as big as he is, he’d never have started playing volleyball. He’d never have the power for it, would never have found himself as Karasuno’s ace, would never have met Noya.

The only reason he has Noya is volleyball.

So maybe there are worse things in the world than being too tall and too muscular for an omega.

Eventually, Asahi manages to drag himself out of the bathtub. Even his softest pair of pajamas feel like too much against his overly sensitive skin, but Asahi’s never felt comfortable sleeping in the nude.

He already feels half asleep by the time he gets back to his room, but when he steps inside, something makes him pause. There’s a scent in his room that’s not his own, sharp and a little earthy, and it takes Asahi a moment to realize it’s because one of Noya’s sweatshirts is still slung over the back of the desk chair. He’s been meaning to return it for a couple of days now, ever since Noya forgot it the last time he came over. Honestly, Asahi’s beginning to think Noya might have some sort of memory problem – he always seems to leave something behind whenever he comes over.

Asahi finds himself picking up the sweatshirt and pressing it to his face, breathing in Noya’s scent. Whatever traces of scent Noya left in the room are long since gone, but it’s ingrained in the sweatshirt, thick and heavy.

Part of Asahi wishes that his dad hadn’t made them keep the door to his room open when Noya was over – maybe then more of Noya’s scent would have lingered – but then he remembers how secretly pleased Noya had looked when Asahi’s father had instituted the rule. Of course, Noya had complained afterwards about how it wasn’t as if they couldn’t have been fucking back when everyone thought he was an omega, but Asahi could tell that the small acknowledgement had meant more than Noya was willing to admit, as backwards as it was.

Asahi takes another deep breath, eyes falling shut as he inhales Noya’s scent, flooding his nose and mouth. He doesn’t think Noya’s scent has changed too much since starting hormone replacement therapy. But maybe it’s become a little earthier, he thinks, a little richer.

He finds himself still clutching onto the sweatshirt as he climbs into bed, and he wishes he were a little more heat addled, just to have an excuse for dragging Noya’s sweatshirt into bed with him. There’s something comforting about Noya’s scent, though, and it makes Asahi’s skin feel a little less itchy and tight.

It also makes him feel a little guilty, though, like some sort of stalker, stealing Noya’s belongings. But Noya was the one who left it behind, and it’s not like he’ll ever find out. Asahi’s not even doing anything too creepy with the sweatshirt. He’s just… holding it.

Asahi falls asleep with his face buried in the soft fabric.

\---

The next morning, Asahi wakes up slowly. His mind is hazy, and his skin is flushed too hot even though he’d already kicked off his covers sometime in the middle of the night. He feels sticky, and sweaty, and gross, and embarrassingly _horny_ , which is probably the worst part.

He groans and rolls over onto his stomach. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s still clutching Noya’s sweatshirt, face buried in it as he breathes in the soothing scent. It’s really not making him any less aroused, though. Vaguely, he realizes he’ll probably regret this later, but he’s too overwhelmed with heat hormones to do anything but moan into the fabric as he starts grinding against his mattress.

For a moment, he’s almost able to imagine that Noya actually is here with him, small body pressed up against him, slim fingers tangled in his hair. Asahi comes just a few moments later, imagining Noya hissing, “Fuck, _Asahi_ ,” against his skin.

Coming only allows Asahi a minute of relief, though. It’s always after the first orgasm that his heat starts in earnest, turning him into a shivery, overstimulated mess. Soon enough, Asahi’s kicking off his ruined pajama pants and bringing a hand back to test his hole. He’s wet enough that the first finger slides in easily, and a moment later he’s shoving a second one in alongside it, stretching himself wider.

Two fingers doesn’t feel like enough, though, and he spreads his legs a little more, trying to fit a third. Panting, he curls his fingers, searching for the spot that never fails to make him flush with arousal. This is the one advantage of having long, thick fingers, he thinks. Still, the angle is difficult to maintain, and he can already feel his wrist cramping as he shoves himself down on his fingers, trying to get more friction.

He lasts a few more moments before giving up and reaching over to his bedside drawer, fumbling a little in his haste as he yanks it open. There’s only one toy inside, a light blue silicon dildo.

(Convincing his – more conservative – parents to let him go out and buy one was probably the most embarrassing moment of his life. Trying to get through his heat with only his fingers was hellish, though, and eventually they’d relented, after Asahi spent a good ten minutes stuttering and blushing his way through an explanation.)

The toy itself isn’t particularly small or large. Quite honestly, some of the dildos in the store he’d bought it at had made Asahi cringe. Where would you even _fit_ all of that? Better to stick to a more realistic size.

Asahi grabs the bottle of lube out of his bedside table drawer, accidentally spilling some across his stomach as he tries to open it. He’s too desperate to really care about the mess he’s making right now, though, and eventually, he manages to coordinate his trembling hands enough to slick up the toy, before bringing it back to ease inside of him.

His eyes fall shut when he finally has it all the way inside, breath hitching slightly. He’s on his back now, Noya’s sweatshirt balled up under his head like a pillow, and Asahi tries not to imagine that it’s Noya inside him.

He mostly fails. There’s no way he’s going to be able to look Noya in the eye when he gets back to school, but at this point his mind is too heat-addled for him to really care.

His chest heaves out heavy breaths as he starts fucking himself. When he finally finds the right angle, he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out an embarrassing, high pitched whine. Part of him wants to drag the blankets back over his body – to hide – but he knows he’d just end up overheating again, so instead he makes do with flinging an arm over his eyes, cheeks flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and heat.

Noya would probably tell him not to hide, he thinks.

“C’mon, Asahi, I wanna see you,” imaginary Noya pants against Asahi’s ear, and Asahi’s cock twitches. For a moment, Asahi freezes, indecisive, but eventually he stops covering his face, bringing his hand down to jerk himself off instead, as the other works the dildo at a steady pace.

Asahi’s hips move unconsciously, fucking himself down on the dildo and up into his hand, and it’s not long until he’s spilling across his stomach again. Vaguely, he registers that he should try to clean himself up before things start drying uncomfortably, but he can’t quite muster the energy to do so. Instead, he finds himself falling back into restless unconsciousness.

In his dreams, Noya peppers him with kisses and then falls asleep curled up next to him.

\---

When his heat finally breaks, Asahi has no idea know how he’s going to survive school.

Rather, he doesn’t know how he’s going to survive seeing _Noya_ at school.

Despite washing the sweatshirt three times, Asahi still feels like Noya will somehow _know_ – know that Asahi’s a pervert who spent his entire heat with his face buried in the sweatshirt, drowning himself in Noya’s scent. It’s not like he _meant_ to, really, but that doesn’t change the fact that he spent the entire four days of his heat fantasizing about Noya.

He’s tried so hard to not burden Noya with his awkward crush, and he doesn’t want that to all go to waste just because he couldn’t control himself while in heat.

“You look like shit,” Noya announces when Asahi arrives at practice on Monday morning.

“Thanks,” Asahi says dryly.

“I am so glad I don’t have to deal with heats anymore,” Noya continues, grinning. “Talk about a pain in the ass.” He pauses for a moment. “Literally.”

Asahi can’t help but blush at that. The only reason his own ass isn’t aching at the moment is because of the painkillers he’d downed with breakfast.

“Oh, hey, have you seen my light green sweatshirt?” Noya asks, and Asahi tenses up. “I’ve been looking everywhere for it, and I think I might have left it at your place last week.”

“This one?” Asahi asks, his voice impressively steady as he digs through his gym bag and comes up with said sweatshirt.

“Yeah,” Noya answers, accepting the sweatshirt and sticking it into his own bag, barely sparing it a second glance. Asahi breathes an internal sigh of relief when Noya doesn’t seem to notice anything off about it. He feels a little guilty about giving Noya the sweatshirt back after what happened, even if he did wash it three times, but he thinks that buying Noya an entirely new one would probably have been weirder.

Noya chatters on about various topics as they start setting up the gym for practice. Asahi pays enough attention to nod and comment at appropriate times, but he’s a little distracted by watching Noya as he moves, back muscles shifting under his shirt, shirt sleeves sliding down to reveal a couple new bruises.

The bruises make Asahi frown slightly. They could be from practice – and they usually are, he’s come to realize – but Noya also has a habit of getting into fights. In fact, bruise on his forearm looks more like a hand pattern than anything Noya could have gotten from volleyball.

“What happened?” Asahi blurts out, cutting off Noya’s monologue about the radiant smile Shimizu gave Yachi on Friday.

“What?” Noya replies, shooting Asahi a confused look.

“Your arm,” Asahi clarifies, gesturing to the bruise.

“It’s nothing,” Noya says, tone dismissive. “Just some idiots talking shit. They didn’t listen when I told them to shut up, so I thought I’d make them shut up.”

There are few things that really make Asahi mad, but people giving Noya a hard time because of his dynamic is one of them. He’s never been much of a fighter, but right now he feels like punching someone. Specifically whoever was “talking shit,” as Noya put it.

“Who was it?” Asahi demands, hands clenching into fists. “Because Takeda-sensei said that if anyone was harassing you because of – ”

“What? No!” Noya says quickly, making Asahi frown. “No one’s bothered me about that since I broke Yamada’s nose. They were saying stupid shit about _you_.”

“Oh,” Asahi replies, caught off guard.

“And you never stand up for yourself anyway, so I figured I’d take things into my own hands,” Noya continues, shooting Asahi a grin. For a moment, Asahi’s heart seems to skip a beat.

“You know, you can’t fight everyone who spreads rumors about me,” Asahi huffs, his cheeks turning a little pink.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to tolerate it when they’re doing it within earshot,” Noya snorts.

“You’re going to get suspended again,” Asahi sighs. Really, he doesn’t need Noya to get suspended for a second time because of him.

“Worth it,” Noya says easily, and Asahi – Asahi doesn’t really know how to respond to that. He knows Noya’s only saying and doing this because they’re friends, but sometimes it’s hard for Asahi to keep himself from reading too far into things.

“It’s really not, Noya,” Asahi protests, and Noya pins him with a sharp look.

“ _You’re_ worth it, okay?” Noya says, his tone firm, and Asahi feels like all the air has been abruptly knocked form his lungs. “And if you keep talking shit about yourself, I’m gonna have to beat you up too, you know.”

“Alright, alright,” Asahi replies with a small laugh, lips quirking up into a small smile. “Just so you won’t beat me up.”

“No, seriously,” Noya continues, his serious tone making the smile slip back off Asahi’s face. “You’re amazing, and it’s about time people at this school got their heads out of their asses and realized it.”

“T-that’s – ” Asahi stutters, his face flushing. “I mean – you’re amazing, too, you know.”

“Is that a confession, Asahi-san?” Noya laughs, giving Asahi a wink, and Asahi’s pretty sure his heart freezes in his chest for a moment.

“What? No! I – ” Asahi sputters, heartbeat starting up again and tripping into double time. “I didn’t mean – ”

“Hey, I’m just teasing you,” Noya says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t have an aneurism.”

There’s a certain sharpness to Noya’s tone, though, which Asahi can’t help but notice. He opens his mouth to ask Noya what’s wrong, but before he can get the words out, Noya says, “C’mon, Daichi’s gonna yell at us again if we keep dragging our feet.”

Asahi doesn’t notice anything wrong with Noya during the rest of practice, though, so he decides to drop the subject. He was probably just imagining things, anyway.

\---

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful. Asahi hears a few snippets of the new rumors – apparently he was absent because he’d been arrested by the police and was only released due to a lack of concrete evidence. Asahi honestly doesn’t know how people come up with this stuff.

(And aren’t omegas stereotyped as non-threatening? Not that Asahi believes you should stereotype people based on their dynamic – it’s just the principle of the matter. Then again, most people don’t even realize he’s an omega.)

“Asahi-saaaaaan,” Noya calls out, running up to Asahi as he heads towards the school gates after practice. Asahi pauses, waiting for him and trying not to conjure up stupid fantasies about Noya walking him home from school. “We should stop and get popsicles.”

“Do you actually eat anything other than ice cream?” Asahi laughs, but starts walking with Noya in the direction of the convenience store.

“Sometimes I eat pork buns,” Noya quips, a grin on his face.

“Do you think Hinata actually eats anything other than pork buns?” Asahi muses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat anything else, except for during training camps.”

“Why, are you going to make a bento for him or something?” Noya asks, smirking. “I know he unintentionally confessed to you in practice last week, but isn’t he a little young for you?”

“I wouldn’t – !” Asahi sputters, as Noya laughs. “He – he’s _tiny_ , like a younger brother or something.”

“Do you not like short people?” Noya asks, quirking an eyebrow at Asahi. “Is there a ‘you must be this tall to ride’ requirement?” He pauses for a moment. “Pun intended.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Asahi sighs, trying not to think about how height really doesn’t seem to affect how much he’s attracted to a person, if Noya is any indication. “Maybe it’s because he seems so childish. And anyway, just because he wasn’t completely repulsed by my heat scent doesn’t mean he’s actually attracted to me. Lots of people smell nice.”

“Do _I_ smell nice?” Noya asks, shooting Asahi a playful smirk.

“Not right after practice,” Asahi manages, hoping that Noya doesn’t notice the slight waver in his voice.

“You wound me, Asahi-san,” Noya huffs, but there’s no real offense in his tone.

When they arrive at the convenience store, Noya makes a beeline for the popsicle freezer, eventually coming up with a soda flavored one clutched triumphantly in his hand.

“Do you want kiwi or pear?” Noya asks, as Asahi catches up to him. The question catches Asahi off guard a little, because he and Noya get popsicles occasionally, but he hadn’t thought it was often enough for Noya to remember his favorite flavors.

“Kiwi would be good,” Asahi answers, and Noya nods before digging a second popsicle out of the freezer and shoving it towards him.

“C’mon, I’m buying today,” Noya says as he makes his way over to the register.

“But – ” Asahi starts.

“You bought me ice cream last time, remember?” Noya interrupts, fumbling around in his pockets until he comes up with a well-worn leather wallet. “So I’m just paying you back.”

Asahi can’t really argue with that. Noya digs a few coins out of his wallet and hands the over to the cashier (not Ukai anymore, who’s probably getting a much-deserved break after practice instead), before the two of them head out to sit on the steps in front of the store.

A few moments pass in silence as they eat their popsicles. Noya, for once, doesn’t consume his in all of two bites, instead taking his time with it, which, honestly, makes Asahi a little worried.

“Seriously, though, would you date someone who’s my height or Hinata’s height?” Noya asks, finally breaking the silence. His question catches Asahi off guard. “I mean, it would be pretty hard to find someone taller than you, unless you were going to date Tsukishima or someone from a rival team.” Noya pauses for a moment to lick his popsicle. “Or you could check out the basketball players, I guess.”

“I don’t think I’m in a position to be that picky,” Asahi snorts. He catches a drop of melted popsicle on his tongue as it threatens to drip down onto his fingers. “But even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t mind dating someone shorter than me. Why are you asking?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to figure out why locker hasn’t been flooded with confessions yet,” Noya says, his tone light, but at the same time it sounds a little strained to Asahi’s ears. “Kageyama said it might be the height thing.”

“I guess maybe it could be,” Asahi replies, trying not to feel too relieved about Noya not getting any confessions. He feels guilty for being so selfish. “You don’t normally get self-conscious about these things, though.”

Noya takes a moment to reply, instead biting off the top of his popsicle and chewing it slowly. Asahi has to suppress a grimace – he doesn’t understand how Noya’s teeth can stand it.

“HRT helps a lot of things, but it’s probably not going to make me much taller, even though I started it early,” he finally says, surprising Asahi.

“I’d give you some of my height if I could,” Asahi replies.

“Keep your height,” Noya snorts. “You need it for volleyball.”

“For what it’s worth, if people don’t want to date you because they think you’re too short, they’re probably not anyone you’d actually want to date in the first place,” Asahi says, fiddling with his, now bare, popsicle stick.

“You’re probably right,” Noya sighs, taking another large bite of his popsicle.

“Would you date someone _my_ height?” Asahi asks, trying to be casual about it, but he can already feel his palms getting sweaty in response to his anxiety.

“Sure, why not?” Noya answers easily. “Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Asahi is pretty sure his face is as red as Hinata’s whenever Shimizu actually says something to him. Of course, Noya probably just said that because he’s a good friend, and not because he’d actually be interested in the two of them dating, but hearing it still makes Asahi a little happy.

“Kiyoko-san’s taller than me, too,” Noya continues, and the moment’s gone. Asahi has to bite back a sigh. “Do you think she’d date someone shorter than her?”

“Noya…” Asahi starts, trying to figure out how to phrase what he’s going to say. “I don’t think she’s actually attracted to alphas in the first place.”

“Wait, really?” Noya asks, frowning.

“Well, I’ve known her for almost three years now and she’s never expressed an interest in any alpha before,” Asahi answers, popsicle stick clutched tightly in his hands. “But recently she and Yachi have gotten pretty close, and Yachi’s a beta, so…”

“Huh,” Noya says, his brow furrowed in thought. “I guess you’re right. Damn.”

“I’m just speculating,” Asahi says quickly. “You’d have to ask her to really know.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Noya replies, waving off Asahi’s concerns. “I knew it was a long shot anyway.”

Asahi wants to tell Noya that it really wasn’t that much of a long shot – that he’s amazing – but he doesn’t know how to phrase it without his crush being completely obvious. He keeps quiet instead, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation into safer waters.

“Alright, well, my moms are probably wondering where I am by now,” Noya announces, standing up from the steps and stretching. “I better start heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Asahi echoes. He watches Noya leave until he turns the corner and disappears from sight, and tries not to feel too pathetic.

\---

Life seems to go on as usual. Apparently Asahi washed Noya’s sweatshirt well enough that Noya can’t tell that he spent all of his heat clinging to it. Meanwhile, people are still spreading that rumor about him getting arrested, despite Noya apparently beating someone up over it. (Honestly, Asahi’s a little concerned that maybe Noya getting into a fistfight over him just made things worse. Everyone probably thinks Noya’s his enforcer now or something.)

Things do take a turn for the unusual, though, when one of his classmates, Maeda, actually tries talking to him. Asahi’s ninety-nine percent sure that Maeda’s a dealer, which is why he’s one of the few people willing to talk to Asahi despite his delinquent reputation. Of course, being seen talking to Maeda certainly isn’t doing anything to help the situation.

“So are you actually fucking that shrimpy second year?” Maeda asks, and Asahi almost falls out of his chair.

“No!” Asahi all but shouts, his tone strangled. “No, that’s not – he’s not – ” Asahi takes a deep breath. “Where did you hear that?”

“Shit, chill out, Azumane,” Maeda says, rolling his eyes. “Just heard a rumor.”

Asahi’s really starting to hate rumors.

“You two would make a pretty fucking weird couple, so I thought I’d see if it was true,” Maeda continues. “You’ve got, what, twenty centimeters on him?”

“Yeah,” Asahi says awkwardly, biting his lip and trying not to wish that he wasn’t so weirdly tall. Then maybe he’d actually have a chance with Noya. Maybe.

Maeda turns away from him, apparently satisfied now that he knows that there isn’t actually any juicy gossip to be found. Asahi sighs inwardly and turns to look out the window. He sincerely hopes that the rumor hasn’t gotten around to Noya yet. Noya’s never seemed to mind hanging out with him despite the risk of getting caught up in rumors by association, but part of Asahi is worried that if Noya hears this rumor he’ll _realize_. He’ll realize that the whole reason someone started a rumor about them being together in the first place is because Asahi has the most obvious crush ever.

Of course, Noya would probably be relatively nice about, would probably try to let him down gently, but things would undoubtedly be weird between them. Asahi can’t let that happen, especially when they’ve only just rebuilt their relationship after the Dateko fallout.

It’s a relief when school finally ends and Asahi heads to practice. Daichi and Suga will probably tease him if they’ve heard the rumor, but at least he knows that none of his teammates will be involved in any of that stupid gossip. As cliché as it sounds, practice is one of the few times he feels like he doesn’t have to worry about people judging him.

However, when he steps into the gym, Noya doesn’t come over to greet him. It’s not too big of a deal – Noya’s just distracted by talking to Tanaka – but it is a little unusual that Noya doesn’t give him even the most precursory of greetings before practice officially starts.

Asahi only gets more worried as practice progresses. They’re practicing receives today, and Noya’s always quick to give pointers or criticize Asahi’s form, but even when Asahi’s distracted enough that he almost gets hit in the face, Noya doesn’t say a single word to him.

Noya barely even _looks_ at him throughout the entire practice.

It certainly can’t mean anything good, and Asahi feels his chest go cold as he wonders if maybe Noya’s heard the rumors. Maybe he’s figured Asahi out – has figured out Asahi’s creepy crush – and is too weirded out by it.

But Noya’s normally more straightforward than that, more confident. Just because Asahi’s preferred reaction to awkward situations is avoidance doesn’t mean that Noya’s is. In fact, Asahi’s pretty sure that if Noya ever did find out about his crush, he’d probably just march over and say, “Sorry, but I don’t feel that way for you. Now help me practice receives.”

So maybe Noya doesn’t know about his crush, but something is definitely wrong.

“Noya!” Asahi calls out, trying to catch Noya after practice. “Noya, wait up!”

He sees Noya stiffen a little, but he stops in front of the school gates, waiting for Asahi to catch up.

“Did something happen?” Asahi asks as he comes to a stop in front of Noya, a little breathless from running to keep up with him. “Did I – did I do something wrong?”

Noya’s quiet for a moment, glaring at the ground and avoiding Asahi’s eyes, but then snorts, “Yeah, you did. I didn’t think you cared about that shit, but I guess I misjudged you.”

“Cared about what?” Asahi replies, trying to keep his voice calm and level. “What did I do wrong?”

“What did you – ” Noya repeats, cutting himself off with a harsh laugh. “You mean besides the fact that apparently you’re going around telling people that there’s no way you’d ever date someone like _me_.”

“What? I never said that!” Asahi protests. “I wouldn’t – where did you even hear that?”

“From, like, five different people,” Noya snorts, hands clenched so tightly around the straps of his backpack that his knuckles are going white.

“I never said that,” Asahi repeats. “I – someone asked me if we were dating and I said we weren’t, that’s all.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to date someone like me,” Noya says again, finally looking up to meet Asahi’s gaze, eyes narrowed and hard.

“No, because _you’re not attracted to me_ ,” Asahi replies through gritted teeth. His hands are trembling a little by his sides, so he clenches them into fists to try and steady them. “Why would you even believe this stupid rumor anyway? You know all the other ones are fake so – ”

“Because I know all the other ones are bullshit, but this one sounded plausible, okay? Because I’m short and loud and not very smart and – ” Noya blurts out, catching Asahi off guard. “And I am, for the record. Attracted to you.”

For a moment, Asahi can’t breathe.

“What?” he finally manages, his voice wavering a little.

“I’m attracted to you,” Noya repeats, and he says it like a challenge. “I have a huge fucking crush on you and I wanna – fuck, I don’t know, share popsicles with you and hold your hand. Maybe even get to second base before you graduate.”

“Only second base?” Asahi blurts out, before his mind catches up with his mouth and his face turns bright, bright red. Noya stares at him, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open, as if he’s having difficult processing what Asahi just said.

“You – ” Noya says, floundering a little.

“Sorry – I didn’t mean – I’m not – ”  Asahi sutters, face still burning. “What I mean is that I like you too. A lot.”

“Really?” Noya asks, and he suddenly looks so much smaller and more vulnerable than usual – more so that Asahi’s ever seen him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Asahi finds himself asking. “You’re normally so confident about this sort of thing. I mean, with Shimizu-san – ”

“I don’t actually like her like that,” Noya blurts out, surprising Asahi. “I mean, I did for the first half of first year but then – ” He falters for a second. “ – but then you started talking to me and… I’ve been kind of a wimp about the whole situation.”

“Well, you’re not the only one,” Asahi replies. “I still can’t believe you thought those rumors were true, though.”

Noya winces, looking abashed.

“Sorry,” he says, his tone sincere. “I should have known you wouldn’t actually say something like that. It was stupid of me.”

“You can buy me dinner to apologize,” Asahi blurts out, deciding to be brave for once. “If you want to.”

“Really?” Noya asks, his face lighting up. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” Asahi confirms, a small smile on his face. “Like a date.”

“How about ice cream?” Noya asks, a wide grins spreading across his face. “I need to rub this in that waiter’s face. He totally didn’t think I was competition, but look who’s laughing now.”

“Noya!” Asahi sputters, and Noya laughs.

“Seriously, though, you really mean it?” Noya asks, once his laughter has died down. “Because I really do like you and – ”

“I mean it,” Asahi interrupts.

“Great,” Noya says, grinning again. “’cause you’re stuck with me now. What do you wanna eat?”

“Right now?” Asahi asks, blinking at Noya.

“I’ve waited over a year already,” Noya answers easily. “Now c’mon, I wanna hold your hand and do sappy couple things. You like tonkotsu ramen, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Asahi manages as Noya tangles their fingers together and starts heading in the direction of one of the more popular ramen shops in town. “Ramen sounds good.”

Noya grins at him and Asahi can’t help but smile back.

\---

“Uuuugh, this sucks,” Noya grumbles from where he’s curled up next to Asahi. They’re sprawled over Asahi’s bed, tangled together, but the door to the room is wide open (because of his parents’ insistence) and Asahi’s careful to make sure hands don’t stray anywhere inappropriate. “ _My_ parents are okay with it.”

“Your parents are a lot more liberal than mine,” Asahi says with a soft laugh.

“Yeah, I know,” Noya sighs. “I just wanna help you with your heat, though. I mean, I only had two, but I felt like I was dying the entire time. I can’t imagine going through that every three months on my own.”

“It’s okay, my parents will come around eventually,” Asahi replies, reaching over to twine their fingers together. “And they like you, even though it’s kind of hard to tell.”

“I guess,” Noya huffs. “Seriously, though, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Um,” Asahi says, an idea occurring to him. “Maybe you could leave some clothes here. Like a sweatshirt, or something?”

“A sweatshirt?” Noya repeats, giving Asahi a considering look. Then, realization seems to dawn on him. “Wait, when I forgot my sweatshirt here last time, did you – ?”

“I washed it three times before giving it back to you,” Asahi blurts out, embarrassment flooding him. “I thought about buying you a new one, but then I thought that would look weird.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Noya says, smirking at Asahi.

“It just smelled really good,” Asahi mumbles, cheeks hot.

“Well, if it’s confession time, then I might as well tell you that I left it behind on purpose,” Noya replies, catching Asahi off guard. “I mean, I forgot your heat was coming up, but sometimes I ‘forget’ things here so that when you finally give them back to me they smell like you.” He pauses for a moment. “Which is kind of creepy, now that I think about it.”

“Maybe a little,” Asahi laughs. “But, uh, if you want to keep leaving things here I’m not going to stop you. Or you could even borrow some of my clothes, if you want.”

“I would _drown_ in your clothes,” Noya snorts, idly tracing patterns on the back of Asahi’s hand with his fingertips.

“I think I might be able to dig up some of my old clothes from middle school,” Asahi teases, and Noya elbows him in the stomach in retaliation.

“Do you have any scarves? I could take a scarf,” Noya muses, expression thoughtful.

“Have you ever worn a scarf before?” Asahi asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Wow, if I’d only know that dating brings out your secret mean side – ” Noya starts, then cuts himself off. “Actually, I’d probably still date you. Your cuteness balances things out.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be nice,” Asahi says, craning his neck to press a light kiss to Noya’s cheek.

“You missed my mouth,” Noya whines, looking at Asahi expectantly.

“My parents are home,” Asahi protests.

“I’ll keep my hands away from anything incriminating,” Noya assures him, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that make Asahi doubt that claim.

He smiles and kisses Noya anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> my anime/manga tumblr is [letaizawarest](https://letaizawarest.tumblr.com) but my main tumblr (teen wolf and marvel) is [authorkurikuri](https://authorkurikuri.tumblr.com)


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